


Notes

by Ihni



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A little angst, A little pining, Love Letters, M/M, Poetry, Rhymes, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22699351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihni/pseuds/Ihni
Summary: Someone's leaving notes for Steve.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 22
Kudos: 104
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love, harringrove for Australia





	Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [socknonny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/socknonny/gifts).



> For the wonderful socknonny, who wanted secret love letters, with a somewhat angsty, pining mood. I'm not sure I hit the mark on that one, but ... *shrugs* ... rhymes don't always turn out the way I intend them to.

His house is big and empty, less _home_ , more of a _place_  
He’s not exactly living, just existing in this space  
His parents aren’t occupants, but visitors, at best  
And Steve himself is often feeling kind of like a guest

He wouldn’t say he’s lonely – not exactly, anyway  
He’s got the kids and Robin, so really, he’s okay  
And maybe being always home alone is for the better?  
It’s what he tells himself that night when he first finds the letter

It’s short – more of a note – and it’s taped to his front door  
And quite impossible – it being bright green – to ignore  
**_I’ve seen you smile_** , the note says, **_but it doesn’t reach your eyes_**  
**_I wish it did_** – at this, Steve walks inside, and then he cries

Because he’s got the kids and Robs, and that should be enough  
But they all seem to think of him as either very tough  
Or – if they’re not in peril – just a rich and goofy teen  
It’s been a while since anyone has made him feel so _seen_

The next day, there’s a postcard on the windshield of his car  
The picture is in black and white; some old-school movie star  
**_You deserve much better_** , the note says, **_than what you’ve got  
You’re brave and smart and loyal, and you’re really really hot_**

Steve bites his lip – it’s just a note, but someone is behind it  
It’s kinda creepy really, but he finds he doesn’t mind it  
It makes him feel, in some weird way, like he is less alone  
Someone’s out there, watching him, and Steve? Is feeling _known_

The next one – found by Robin, in the tip jar where they work  
Says **_Sorry if I ever thought that you were just a jerk  
You’re more than that, you’re more than me, you’re what I want to be  
_**Steve blushes, chews his lip, but cannot help but disagree

Steve’s keeping every single one, and puts them in a box  
He hides them in a drawer, under two layers of socks  
It’s not like they’re a secret, but he wants to keep them hidden  
The words, they _burn_ , like something shameful, dirty, or forbidden

He doesn’t know who writes them, but they get him through the day  
When darkness looms, he thinks of what the next letter will say  
He dreams, at night, of finding one, still held by ink-stained fingers  
He dreams of reaching out, and of a timid touch that lingers

Whoever writes them _knows_ him, in the most straightforward sense  
They _see_ him, strip him bare of fabrication and pretense  
**_I see behind your mask_** , they say, and **_You don’t have to hide  
I think you could do anything you wanted if you tried_**

No one’s had such faith in Steve in ages, maybe ever  
But someone’s out there, thinking he is **_good_** and **_kind_** and **_clever_**  
So when he wakes up screaming, or when he falls apart  
He reads the notes again, until he knows them all by heart

The notes keep coming – most of them say something sweet or nice  
Like **_You smell good_** or **_You’ve got the world’s most amazing eyes_** _  
_ One day, one says **_I wish I didn’t want what you can’t give me_** _  
_ Another one, another day, says simply this: **_Forgive me_**

There’s no more letters after that – a day goes past; a week  
Steve’s life go back to being dull, his future back to bleak  
He reads the notes inside the box and wonders what went wrong  
If maybe they found out that he was worthless all along

He caves one night when he can’t sleep, and fumbles for a pen  
He writes a note, and swears – he rips it up and tries again  
He puts it on his door, and it is simple, just “ _I miss you”  
_That afternoon, he adds _“(I kind of wish that I could kiss you)”_

 ** _You don’t_** , the answer reads (and it’s the longest one), **_Believe me  
If I die tomorrow there is no one who would grieve me  
You wouldn’t aim those words at me, I promise, if you knew me  
I hurt you once – if I did so again it would undo me_**

**_You’re everything I want and everything I wish I had  
And if I’ve made you smile with these, just once, then I am glad  
I wish you all the best, I guess I’ll see you now and then  
I’m really sorry, pretty boy. I will not write again_ **

Steve drops the letter to the ground and just stares straight ahead  
And thinks of those who’ve hurt him, thinks of who he’s wanted dead  
Who’s asking for forgiveness, who is trying to atone?  
Then he remembers _pretty boy_ and cannot help but groan

The next day, he leaves early, with a letter folded twice  
It's three words only, but he’s hoping that they will suffice  
He drives through town, and parks, and then he settles down to wait  
Glancing at his watch; it’s just a quarter after eight

Billy Hargrove walks out from his house at ten to nine  
Steve gets out as well – a shiver running down his spine  
When Billy sees him there, his face goes ashen; eyes go wide  
For a fleeting moment, he looks almost petrified

But then he shakes it off, and walks towards the car while frowning  
And Steve feels like he can’t breathe, suddenly, and like he’s drowning  
“What are you doing here?” “I have this thing I want to give you”  
Steve hands the other boy the note which spells out; _“I forgive you”_

Billy grabs him, hard; gets one hand wrapped around his wrist  
Steve holds his breath and waits for the inevitable fist  
But no hit comes, instead a touch is making his head spin  
As Billy’s finger slowly traces **_Thank you_** on his skin

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Lemonlovely, who read through this for me <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Notes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726124) by [socknonny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/socknonny/pseuds/socknonny)




End file.
